


Another Moon Will Smile Upon My Way

by Lion_owl



Category: Doctor Who & Related Fandoms, Doctor Who (1963)
Genre: Alistair's POV, Deleted Scene, Established Relationship, Flashback, Other, Serial: s065 The Three Doctors, Timey-Wimey, behind canon's closed doors
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-26
Updated: 2019-12-26
Packaged: 2021-02-26 04:20:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,588
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21977245
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lion_owl/pseuds/Lion_owl
Summary: the Doctor is sent into his own future to help when the universe is under threat, and on a personal note makes a rather pleasant discovery about what awaits him.
Relationships: Second Doctor/Alistair Gordon Lethbridge-Stewart, The Doctor (Doctor Who)/Alistair Gordon Lethbridge-Stewart, Third Doctor/Alistair Gordon Lethbridge-Stewart
Comments: 6
Kudos: 19





	Another Moon Will Smile Upon My Way

“But the Doctors,” Ms Grant says, burying her face in Benton’s chest as she cries.

“Oh, I dare say they'll turn up, as usual,” he says, hoping beyond hope that he’ll be proved right. 

He shares Ms Grant’s grief, shares her fear – though he can’t so openly express it as she is doing; couldn’t have refused to leave the Doctor’s side; couldn’t have allowed himself to shed the tears that had threatened to prickle his eyes when the Doctors said to Omega that they would stay behind, for what sounded like as good as forever. 

The Doctor’s hand, resting on his arm while he assured him the column of smoke would return everyone to Earth, was a small comfort, laden with the knowledge that it may be the last time he ever feels his touch. He had hardly been able to breathe. 

“Wonderful chap,” he says. “Both of him.” 

Now, there is the relief of being back on Earth, relatively safe – it is entirely overshadowed by the images, seared into his mind: of one of the Doctors’ soft smile as Alistair said goodbye to both of them, and the warmth of understanding in his eyes, the silent promise that he _is_ going to be coming home; and the other Doctor, too, bowing his head in farewell, his strange look of consideration as Alistair saluted and quickly stepped into the smoke before he could give into the temptation to insist on staying.

When it was just that Doctor, the two of them had never discussed the attraction between them, even though, on occasion, it had been palpable. 

~

It hadn’t taken Alistair long, way back, during that first meeting in the London Underground, to find himself attracted to the Doctor. He’d put it aside, dealt with the crisis, gone home afterwards and been unable to get him off his mind. 

To begin with, he’d put it down to nothing more than curiosity – the Doctor _was_ rather unusual, after all – and a silly infatuation. And he even managed to believe it, for a while. But then he had got to work helping to build UNIT, and every time there was an incident, he always hoped that the Doctor would show up again to help. The moment he recognised the Doctor and McCrimmon, in that photograph of the International Electromatics building, was the moment when he’d known he was done for.

Yet nothing could have prepared him for how much it hurt when the Doctor’s next appearance in his life was full of resentment and abrasiveness, bringing with it the quick deterioration of their previously easy rapport and co-operation; for how painful it was to know that the man with whom he was probably in love, would rather be anywhere else in the _universe_ than by his side.

“The first day I met you,” Ms Shaw had said, much later on, “you had this far-away, lovelorn expression come over your face as soon as you started telling me about the Doctor.”

He had choked on the sandwich he’d been eating, and been ready to dress her down for making such a presumptuous remark to a superior officer, but she’d pressed on: 

“No, listen. What he said in his workshop at the research complex was rude, and I’ve had a word with him about that – but he wasn’t really talking about you, he was talking about someone who just happened to have the same name and face as you. It’s obvious to me that he cares for you a very great deal.” 

He had said nothing, could say nothing, but her words had rung in his head for the rest of the day, and that evening once H.Q. was largely deserted, he’d brought a pot of tea and a plate of biscuits to the Doctor’s laboratory and just sat with him while he worked, until eventually the Doctor had tidied up his experiment and spoke.

“I am truly sorry about my behaviour these last few months,” he had said. “Losing the freedom of the TARDIS is utter hell, make no mistake, but, well – contrary to the impression I have given – without you being here, Brigadier, I don’t think I could survive it at all.”

He’d taken Alistair’s free hand in his own. “I do care about you. I have done since the Yeti. And if you permit it, I should very much like to kiss you.”

Alistair dropped his mug.

“Leave it, leave it,” he’d said hurriedly as the Doctor let go of his hand and moved to lean down and pick up the shards from among the spilt tea. 

He was propelled to his feet and surging forward and, unable to quite believe he was actually getting to do this in more than just his dreams, lifted a hand to the Doctor’s chin, tilting it until their faces were only centimetres apart. "Do it," he whispered, his other hand had landed on the Doctor’s chest, and the Doctor had wrapped his arms around Alistair’s waist, closing the gap between their lips, sending sparks of electricity crackling across his entire body.

“Well, Brigadier,” the Doctor had said, once Alistair was forced to prioritise breathing – and he wasn’t sure how the Doctor could speak so clearly. “This is certainly a turn of events.”

“The fact,” Alistair had somehow managed to say, two or three words per breath, “that you just treated me to the best snog of my life so far, and subsequently addressed me by my rank…” 

“Well, Alistair,” the Doctor had corrected, “where do we go from here?” 

Alistair had wrapped his arms around the Doctor’s back, pulling him into a tight hug.

~

“Well. Goodbye,” the Doctor says “It's been so nice to meet me.” 

“Yes, I see what you mean,” the Doctor says. “I hope I don't meet me again.”

“Ah! And goodbye, Jo,” he says, proffering his hand.

“Goodbye Doctor,” she says, shaking his hand before she turns back to his successor. He leaves the two of them to their conversation and walks over to Alistair. “Brigadier.”

Alistair has already sent Benton off to get started on the inventory of H.Q., said he’ll join him shortly, but he can’t bring himself to leave this Doctor’s side just yet. Once he got over his initial surprise and confusion of his presence, he was finding it was nice to have him around again.

Dr Tyler makes his farewells and exits the TARDIS, and Alistair turns to the Doctor.

“Well, back to your own time zone, I suppose?” Alistair says, “that’s what the other fellow said?” 

“That is indeed what I said,” the Doctor confirms. “Now, I just wait.”

“The Time Lords will send you back?”

“They shouldn’t have to – the timeline should correct itself, now.”

“Well…” Alistair begins, but he doesn’t know what to say.

“I’m going to miss you,” the Doctor says. “I know I’ll be here soon, but I’ll miss you until then.”

Without stopping to wonder if he shouldn’t, Alistair leans down, and presses a brief kiss to the Doctor’s lips.

“Brigadier…” the Doctor says, and his voice sounds very different, in some way.

“Since you’ve already seen your future,” Alistair says. “I hope it won’t hurt for you to know that we will be… that we are… and, I _oh_ so wanted to do that, back then.” 

But the Doctor’s slightly surprised expression conveys only sincerity. “Well at least I know I have _something_ to look forward to, about becoming him.”

“Thank you,” Alistair says, recognising the Doctor’s words for the compliment that they are.

“I won’t remember it, of course,” the Doctor says. “I won’t remember any of this unless I cross my timeline again. But he’ll remember it, as soon as I’m gone.”

Alistair looks over then, at the other Doctor; the current Doctor, as it were; suddenly wondering if he made things awkward by kissing his… what, partner, in front of – his partner? Christ, the Doctor is confusing. But he wouldn’t have him any other way. 

But both men are just looking at him, with startlingly similar looks of adoration on their faces, and he can’t help but smile at the warm feeling that spreads within him.

He turns back to the younger version. “Then know that I love you,” he says. “In the pain that is to come, know somewhere deep down that I am here for you.”

“Thank you,” the younger Doctor says, clasping Alistair’s hands tightly as he leans closer and kisses him once again, an eternity compressed into a single gentle moment. 

And then he is gone, and Alistair’s fingers curl into his palm, into the space the Doctor’s hand has just vacated. He straightens his posture. 

Now there is only one Doctor again, and he looks deep in thought, almost as if he is in a trance. 

“Doctor?” He says.

“I remember it,” the Doctor says. “I remember all of it, now. I’d forgotten.” 

“I know,” Alistair says. “I was there.”

The Doctor is at his side, an arm around him, and Alistair leans into the touch automatically. 

“Thank you,” the Doctor says again. “And I love you, too.”

There’s a knock on the still-open door of the TARDIS, and when Ms Grant enters, Alistair realises he hadn’t noticed her slip away.

“Well. Sergeant Benton will be wondering where I’ve got to,” he says, reluctantly extracting himself from the Doctor’s embrace. “I ought to get moving. I’ll see you later, Doctor.” He nods to each of them in turn. “Ms Grant.”

“See you later, Alistair,” the Doctor agrees.

**Author's Note:**

> title is from [way back home](https://youtu.be/7uqV4irAzO4) by temperance


End file.
